Chapter 16: Training Taijutsu
After parting ways with Kakashi, Nan immediately threw himself into perfecting his own ninja-taijutsu technique.
Though he had been half-joking with Kakashi, the bold words he'd said weren't so easy to take back. If Kakashi returned and his technique was still unfinished, the one who'd be left red-faced and ashamed would be Nan himself.
Over the past four months of training, Nan had made significant progress in many areas.
Most notably, his Fire Release ninjutsu had reached jōnin-level proficiency around the same time he mastered Lightning Release chakra nature transformation.
And just a month ago, while working on his lightning techniques, he'd taken the time to reinforce his fire techniques, which were now much more refined than before.
His mastery over Yin Release illusions had also seen tremendous improvement. What was once his weakest area—genjutsu—had now become one of his greatest strengths.
Of course, much of this was thanks to his incredibly strong spiritual energy and ocular power.
With the aid of his fully matured three-tomoe Sharingan, his genjutsu was now likely superior to that of even most genjutsu-specialist jōnin.
Beneath the level of Kage, there were likely few who could match him.
It might sound exaggerated—but when you consider that his "phantom clone" technique was derived from the Mangekyō Sharingan, it no longer seemed so unbelievable.
The only area where his progress remained sluggish… was taijutsu.
Due to his young age, and despite the extra physical energy granted to him through chakra infusion, his body simply couldn't keep up. His current level of taijutsu was barely equivalent to that of a high-ranking genin.
In truth, having that kind of physical prowess at his age already qualified him as a rare prodigy.
But for Nan, it wasn't enough.
His ninjutsu and genjutsu were jōnin-tier. His actual overall combat strength was comparable to a Kage-level shinobi.
And then you had his taijutsu—genin-level. It was laughable. Practically nonexistent.
If Nan had more time or patience, with his chakra-enhanced body, he could very well train his taijutsu to jōnin-level by the time he turned ten.
But he didn't want to wait.
Who knew how strong he'd need to be four years from now?
Low taijutsu ability could easily become a massive liability down the line.
Even now, his lack of taijutsu proficiency had already become a major obstacle in the development of his new technique.
He was currently stuck at the point of designing an optimal chakra circulation route.
Taijutsu doesn't just rely on physical strength—it also requires precise chakra control to maximize performance. The same goes for his intended ninja-taijutsu hybrid technique.
In Nan's design, the "ninja" part involved channeling Lightning Release chakra to amplify physical strength and speed, compensating for his underdeveloped physique due to age.
That part—thanks to his work with Kakashi—was already more or less complete.
All that remained was refinement and testing to make it battle-ready.
But the taijutsu half of the technique wasn't just about brute strength.
He needed to skillfully use that power and, more importantly, calculate the most efficient chakra pathways based on actual taijutsu movement patterns, in order to maximize the Lightning Release amplification effect.
And here was the problem: Nan had almost no real experience in taijutsu.
And that... had left him completely stuck.
How had he only thought about the Lightning Release aspect before—and not considered the taijutsu problem?
Taijutsu specialists in Konoha were even rarer than Lightning Release users. Finding someone both skilled enough and willing to help was no easy task.
What Nan needed wasn't just someone good at taijutsu. Some shinobi excelled simply because of superior physical strength or chakra levels. That wouldn't do.
He needed someone with real technique, someone who could teach him—preferably in a short amount of time.
He thought over the people he knew. No one in his clan specialized in taijutsu. And beyond his family, he didn't really have many connections.
There was only one person he could think of: Might Guy, whom he'd met not long ago.
But Guy was just a newly promoted chūnin at this stage—not yet the legendary taijutsu master he would one day become.
Nan seriously doubted whether the current Guy could meet his needs.
Still, he had no better options. So he went looking for him.
Fortunately, finding Guy was much easier than finding Kakashi. As long as he was in the village, all you had to do was visit a few training grounds—sooner or later, you'd spot him.
As luck would have it, Guy had just returned from a mission and was back in Konoha. It didn't take long before Nan found him.
When he saw Guy's red, swollen eyes, Nan couldn't help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Don't tell me… he still believes Kakashi's nonsense and is training his eyesight every day.
Unable to help himself, Nan asked:
"Guy, judging by how you look... have you been doing daily eye-training exercises?"
Guy, who was drenched in sweat from his intense training, immediately lit up when he saw Nan.
He hadn't slacked off for a single day—he'd been blinking 50,000 times a day, desperately trying to improve his eyesight.
Yet after all that time, he hadn't felt the slightest improvement.
But this was, after all, the "training method" used by two geniuses—Kakashi and Nan—so he had believed in it wholeheartedly. If he hadn't improved, he figured it had to be his fault for not doing it right.
Now that Nan was here, he could finally ask what he'd been doing wrong.
After hearing Guy's explanation, Nan genuinely worried that this lunatic would eventually go blind, so he quickly tried to dissuade him:
"Guy, if you haven't made any progress after all this time, maybe it's because this kind of training just doesn't suit you. I think it's best to give it up."
Guy looked a bit disheartened after hearing that.
So it wasn't that he'd done it wrong—it was that he didn't have the talent for training his vision.
That meant the gap between him and geniuses like Kakashi and Nan had widened even more...
Nan saw Guy's disappointed expression and guessed what he must be thinking. Not wanting to crush his spirit, he quickly added:
"But that doesn't mean you should give up. There's more than one way to train your perception. Plenty of top shinobi never used this method. I believe you'll find the way that suits you best."
"You're right, Nan!" Guy said, brimming with energy again.
"Even if my vision isn't good, I can make up for it by working twice as hard in other areas! I won't lose to anyone!"
Nan looked at the sheer confidence on Guy's face and thought to himself,
You're going to train even harder? Are you trying to kill yourself with effort?
But this was just who Guy was. Seeing him bounce back so quickly, Nan felt relieved.
"Thanks for the encouragement, Nan. By the way, did you come find me for something?"
Now that the moment had come, Nan got to the point:
"I want to train in taijutsu with you. Is that okay, Guy?"
"Oh? You want to learn taijutsu from me?" Guy asked, surprised.
"But you're a ninjutsu specialist, aren't you? I saw you and Kakashi working on some new technique not too long ago."
"And besides," he added, "you're from the Uchiha clan. Surely there are stronger taijutsu users in your clan than me. Wouldn't they be better teachers?"
Nan sighed. "Don't even mention it."
He had tried asking around in the clan—but most Uchiha relied too heavily on the Sharingan. With visual prediction, they didn't need to grind out pure taijutsu.
Techniques that required prolonged physical conditioning? Few in the clan had ever trained them seriously.
They were of little use to Nan.
That's why he'd come to Guy. Honestly, he wasn't that hopeful—but it was worth a try. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
He explained his dilemma to Guy—how he was developing a ninja-taijutsu hybrid technique, and why he urgently needed to improve his taijutsu.
"I see!" Guy said with a big grin. "I didn't really understand most of what you just said, but if I can help a friend, I'd be happy to!"
Guy agreed to train with Nan without hesitation.
"But you better be ready, Nan," Guy warned. "My training is intense. If you can't keep up, there's nothing I can do."
Nan quickly assured him that he was mentally prepared and willing to endure anything.
For the sake of completing his new technique, he was ready to give it his all—even if it meant pushing his body to the limit.
And so, the two made their pact and began training together right away.
But after just half a day of training… Nan was already starting to regret it.
He had completely underestimated the madness of Guy's training regimen.
Nan had believed he could endure any hardship to improve his taijutsu quickly.
After all, he'd pushed himself to the brink in both ninjutsu and genjutsu to reach jōnin-level mastery.
How hard could taijutsu really be?
The answer? Much harder than he ever imagined.
Compared to the agony of taijutsu training, ninjutsu and genjutsu were a walk in the park.